Sweep in Peace (online draft) (complete)

by Ilona Andrews

  I looked at the Merchants. Nuan Cee started forward.

  Grandmother made a quiet noise. He stopped almost in mid step. Grandmother turned in her palanquin. The foxes carrying it lowered it to the ground. She rose within it and stepped out onto the floor.

  Clan Nuan let out a collective gasp.

  The elder fox crossed the floor and stood next to Odalon. I had the spiritual leaders of every faction.

  “Form a line behind your faction,” I said. “Leaders at the very end.”

  The grand ballroom rippled, as vampires, otrokari, and Clan Nuan formed three lines behind their respective representatives.

  “Hold out your hands and take the hand of the person next to you. Skin to skin”

  Metal slid as high-tech gauntlets fell away. Grudgingly they obeyed.

  I looked to the back, where the Khanum, Arland, and Nuan Cee stood, each the end of their line. “Complete the circuit.”

  The muscles on the Khanum’s jaw stood out as she clenched her teeth. Arland’s face might have been made of stone. The gauntlet slid off his hand. He held it out. The Khanum took it. Her expression was terrible. On the other side, Nuan Cee took Arland’s hand. Robart, the next in line behind Arland, turned and clasped his left hand on Arland’s shoulder.

  “Sorry, my friend,” he said.

  Arland braced himself. They thought they knew what was coming. They had no idea.

  George held out his arms.

  I pushed with my magic. The glowing stamens reached out, fastening around his arms. A muscle in his face jerked. He would feel the pain immediately. When the booster actually began drawing on his magic reserve, the agony would be excruciating. I glanced at Sophie. She nodded. We had made a deal, and I was counting on her to stick to it.

  I planted my staff into the floor. It opened, unfurling into three long flexible metal branches. The branches shot to the three beings standing in front of me and clasped their free hands.

  This would hurt. This would hurt so much.

  I looked up, past the people gathered behind me to where Turan Adin stood alone on the floor. He walked toward me and grasped my shoulder with his clawed hand. We stood together, locked into a single living circuit.

  “Do not let go,” I said, speaking to all of them. “If you do, you may not survive.”

  I thrust my hand into the flower and pressed my palm against the psy-booster. Obeying my command, the inn reached out with a tendril and anchored my hand.

  The magic of the inn swelled behind the flower and ripped through me, like a gust of incredibly powerful painful wind. It dashed down the chain, splashed against the leaders, and dissipated.

  Was that it? That wasn’t so bad, but now nothing was happening…

  I felt magic swelling behind the flower, like a tsunami, rising higher and higher. Before I had a chance to prepare myself, it crested and tore into me.

  Pain exploded inside me, erupting into a starburst of red hot needles. Tears wet my eyes. I tried to take a breath and a cascade of memories hit me. Robart screaming at the top of his lungs, screaming and screaming, as he looked across the battlefield and watched the otrokari axe carve into woman he loved. I saw her arm fall from her body, saw the bloody stump where it had been, and at the same time I saw her kissing Robart in a garden, her eyes luminescent with love. I felt it. I felt her love; I felt how much she cared. She would do anything for me. I would do anything for her. In my darkest moments, she was there. She would… They were cutting her apart and there were too many between me and her, and I was reaping and slicing, but she was too far. She was screaming for me. She was screaming for my help and I could do nothing. Her face… Oh stars, her face… Please, please Divine, I will do anything. Anything. Take me. Take me instead. Take me instead, you fucking bitch! The axe carved into her neck and I screamed. I screamed, because the pain burst out of me and if I didn’t let it out, it would tear me apart.

  The memories kept hammering into me like nails into a coffin. Nuan Cee weeping over the small furry body of a fox baby in his arms, bent over and wracked with grief. Sean in his rooms alone, visions of blood and death… Odalon comforting the dying; Ruga walking through a makeshift morgue, hand over his mouth; Grandmother Nuan weeping… We were screaming. We were crying and wailing in one voice, battered by the pain and loss.

  Another memory punched me, like a bullet to the heart. A little otrokari boy trying to walk, unsteady on his feet, teetering, a very serious expression on his little face as behind him a huge otrokar got down on his hands and knees. He was walking toward me. Big round eyes. That’s right. Oh! He fell right on his butt. Pick yourself up. That’s right. That’s my boy. You will grow up big and strong. You will grow… I was cradling a gauntlet with his hand in it. What is this? How is that possible? That is all… Is that all they found? Is that all I have of my son? My boy. My little one. My little baby. No. I can’t outlive my son. I can’t. It hurts too much. A mother isn’t supposed to bury her child!

  Lovers, brothers, sisters, children, parents, I lost them over and over, I mourned them, my grief so raw it cut me from the inside. The waterfall of memories pounded against my soul, shredding it.

  I can’t. Too much. Too much. I can’t.

  How can you live through this? How can anyone live through this?

  I can’t!

  Make it stop. Make it stop, please.

  Please. I beg you.

  Stop!

  The magic vanished. A single image burned before me, a field of bodies under a bloody sky, and then it too dimmed to nothing.

  The inn released my hand and I collapsed to the floor. Next to me George was panting. His nose and eyes bled. Sophie stood by him, her sword in her hands, the severed stamens of the flower melting into nothing on the floor. We’d agreed that when George neared his limit, she would end it.

  All around me people curled on the floor. Some wept, some buried their faces in their hands. A huge otrokar was rocking back and forth.

  I licked my dry lips. My voice came out rusty. “Stop it.”

  Across the room the Khanum stared at me with haunted eyes.

  “You can stop it. You can do it today. Right now. No more. Please, no more.”

  I stood on my back porch, smiled, and watched the long line of the otrokari depart into the night. The Merchants and the Holy Anocracy would follow. Half an hour and the inn would be almost empty.

  It took the three factions less than an hour to hammer out a peace agreement. Nexus had been split along the existing boundaries, with both Horde and the Holy Anocracy surrendering a stretch of territory to create a demilitarized demarcation zone, a no man’s land that would keep them separated and hopefully minimize the incidents. Clan Nuan’s territory had been expanded at the cost of the otrokari and vampires. In return Clan Nuan cut its export and import prices by sixty percent. The agreements had been signed, spat upon, and marked with blood. Everyone had made painful concessions. Everyone stood to reap great benefits. Everyone would have a hell of a time trying to sell the treaty back home, but at least all those present were united in their satisfaction with the arrangement.

  Now they were leaving. Such was the way of an innkeeper. Guests came. Guests left. I remained.

  The otrokari were moving fast. I couldn’t blame them. Everyone was traumatized by the joining, but at least nobody went mad. Sophie had severed the link just in time. I didn’t want to contemplate what would’ve happened if she let it go on for another minute or two. I would have nightmares for weeks as it was. George was standing to the left of me, pale as a sheet, and both his bother and Gaston hovered near him. He almost fell twice already and they were ready to catch him. I had offered him a chair, but he refused.

  The Khanum and Dagorkun were the last in the line. They halted before me.

  “Your parents,” Dagorkun said quietly. “We saw your memories.”

  Oh no. I hoped that wouldn’t happen. I had directed the inn to search for the most traumatic experiences connected to Nexus. The only experience I
had connected to that planet was when my brother Klaus and I landed there six months after our parents disappeared. We were combing the Galaxy trying to find them, and the pain of their disappearances had been so raw. I couldn’t recall thinking of them during the link, but I must’ve done so, and now every guest in the inn who had been connected to Gertrude HUnt had seen deep into a private place in my soul.

  Well, I did it to them. It was only fair.

  “We will keep our eyes and ears open,” Dagorkun said.

  “Thank you,” I said.

  The Khanum looked at me, reached out, and crushed me to her in a bear hug. My bones groaned. She let go and they went off, through the orchard toward the shimmering tunnel leading to a far away place.

  The Merchants followed, including Nuan Sama, who was wrapped in what looked like a space-age straight jacket. I had given her back to Nuan Cee. I never seriously considered taking my revenge on her. The Merchants could deal with her crime. I had a feeling taking a contract unsanctioned by the family was going to cost her much more than whatever tortures I could level on her.

  Clan Nuan departed one by one, heading toward their ship in the field. Cookie walked by me, grinned, and showed me a big green gem clutched in his paw. So, the emerald was returned. Clan Nuan would have to find some other way to entrap their young adults. I had no doubt they would think of something.

  Grandmother passed me in her palanquin, favoring me with a nod. Nuan Cee nodded to me as well, and I nodded back. The next time I would come to Baha-char to seek a Merchant, I would have a rough time bargaining, but some things couldn’t be helped. Maybe I would shop at his competitors. Stranger things had happened.

  The Holy Anocracy was the last. They moved past me, huge in their armor. Lady Isur and Lord Robart walked together, side by side. As they passed me, Lady Isur gently touched Robart’s forearm. He glanced at her and put his hand over hers. Maybe there would be something there in the future. Who knew?

  Arland was the last of the line. He lingered by me.

  “Here we are again,” he said. “I’m leaving.”

  “And I’m staying.”

  “Lady Dina…”

  “Your people are waiting for you, Lord Arland.”

  He smiled, showing me his fangs. “Until next time then.”

  “Until next time.”

  “He has feelings for you,” Sophie said softly.

  “He likes the idea of me,” I told her. “In practice, both he and I know that this would never work.”

  I turned to George.

  “It is our turn,” he said.

  “Yes. Congratulations on your first successful Arbitration.”

  “It wouldn’t have been possible without you,” he said.

  “You’re right. It wouldn’t have been.”

  George offered me a smile. The impact was staggering, but I was now immune.

  “I suppose I am now banned from the inn.”

  “Well, you’ve broken my apple trees, deliberately inflicted emotional distress on me and my guests, and manipulated me into a dangerous magical ritual that could’ve cost my sanity. Unfortunately, as much as I would like to ban you, the Office of Arbitration is a valuable ally. So Gertrude Hunt will welcome you again, should you need our hospitality. At triple your current rate.”

  George laughed. “Very well. Our bill has been settled.”

  I had checked the account an hour ago. My account showed a lovely new balance, complete with a hundred thousand dollar bonus marked as “apple trees.” They payment had been processed through a complicated system of the innkeeper network. It would stand up to scrutiny as long as all my taxes were filed properly.

  “To borrow from the Marshall of House Krahr, until next time,” George said.

  Yeah. Hopefully not too soon.

  The top of his cane shone with bright light and the Arbiter’s people vanished.

  I sat into my patio chair and sighed. The inn had sprouted grape bunches of lights from the roof of the porch and they bathed the space in a soft light. Finally. Everyone was gone.

  The door swung open and Caldenia emerged onto the porch. Her Grace was clad into a light green kimono style robe. She took the chair next to me. Orro followed and loomed over me, a seven foot tall, spiky shadow.

  Oh. Right. He had to leave too. The kitchen would feel so empty and quiet without him. But there was no way I could afford him.

  I smiled at him. “Thank you so much for your help, Orro. I couldn’t have done it without you. You managed the impossible.”

  He loomed over me without saying a word.

  I raised my hand. The brick wall of the inn parted and a small datacard popped into my hand. I offered it to him. “This is your payment and some endorsements for you. It’s not much, but it is the least I can do.”

  “Please, dear.” Caldenia glanced at Orro. “She obtained testimonials from the Khanum of the Horde, three Houses of the Holy Anocracy, Clan Nuan, and myself. This is enough recommendations to rejuvenate your career.”

  Orro moved. His hand shot out, blur-fast. A tiny cupcake landed in front of me, decorated with a swirl of bright yellow cream and a tiny flower made from fondant. The delicate aroma of mango filled the air.

  “For me?”

  He nodded.

  “Thank you.”

  He made a harrumph-like noise and moved again. I looked down at the grocery store flier deposited on the table. He’d circled a sale on strawberries and cherries.

  “I need these things. I cannot make breakfast with thin air.”

  I blinked.

  “And dinner. I will need these.” He flipped the page and pointed to pork chops.

  “Orro, I can’t afford to keep you. You’re a Cleaver chef. I barely even have guests…”

  His chest swelled, His needles stood up, making him even larger. “This is an inn. An inn needs a chef. You can’t afford not to keep me. You don’t even have a gastronomic coagulator!”

  “Orro…”

  “Do not speak of money to me. If I leave, you would ruin this kitchen. You would wallow in your prehistoric barbarism, producing inedible food and desecrating the ingredients.” He raised his chin. “I have spoken.”

  He turned, went inside, and slammed the screen door behind him.

  “Oh thank the stars.” Caldenia exhaled. “No offense to your cooking, but the thought of going back to it was causing me actual anxiety.”

  So. We had a chef. I licked the icing on my cupcake. It was delicious. Mmmm, mango.

  “Where is your werewolf?” Caldenia arched her eyebrows.

  An hour ago Sean and Nuan Cee had walked out into the dark night. I watched as the armor melted off Sean Evans and his body slimmed down to the human form. He took a deep breath, looked at the moon, handed his armor to the Merchant, and walked away.

  “He’ll come around,” I told her and licked my cupcake again, savoring the taste. “I’m sure of it.”

  “Things he has seen. Things he has been through. I’ve had affairs with men damaged by war. It is an uphill battle, which, most of the time, isn’t worth the effort. You do realize this will be exceedingly difficult?”

  “I know,” I told her.

  “Very well.” Her Grace leaned back. “After all, this will be interesting to watch. One must do something for entertainment around here.”

  I laughed and ate my cupcake.

  Epilogue

  The inn chimed, announcing a guest. I raised my head from my book. It was Friday night. The sky behind my windows was dark.

  I had spent the past three days sleeping, stuffing my face, and sleeping some more. Nightmares came and went, fading remnants of the Nexus memories, but I knew they would and I accepted them. I knew why they were there, I didn’t have to wonder what they meant, and it made things easier. It just had to wait them out, like the pain of a healing wound.

  I reached out with my magic. The newcomer felt familiar.

  The still nameless cat and Beast looked at me. I made big eyes at them. Well,
how about that?

  A knock sounded. I got up and opened the door.

  Sean Evans stood on my porch. He wore jeans, running shoes, and a plain grey T-shirt. The scars still crossed his face and his eyes were still dark with memories. I searched them for the hopelessness I had seen before and I couldn’t find it.

  “Hi,” he said.

  “Hi.” My heart was beating a little too fast.

  “Today is the 80’s night at the Sims Theater,” he said.

  Sims was our local answer to movie and dining. It came equipped with small table, and once you ordered form a menu, a speedy and nearly invisible crew of servers would deliver your food while you watched the movie.

  “What’s playing?” I asked, keeping my voice light.

  “Big Trouble in Little China.”

  I grinned.

  “I have two tickets,” he said. “Would you like to come?”

  “I would.” I grabbed my purse from the table and stepped out. “I think I totally deserve a night off.”

  “Lucky for me.”

  Behind me, the inn shuttered itself. It would be okay for a couple of hours.

  We walked down the long driveway to where a Range Rover waited parked by the street. I liked this. I liked walking next to him.

  “So what did you tell the neighbors about your absence?” I asked.

  “I told them the truth. I took a job in a far away place to make some money and broaden my horizons.”

  We reached the car. Sean peered at the side street and swore.

  A brief wail of a siren cut through the night, and Officer Marais’ cruiser slid out of the side street and stopped next to us, facing in the opposite direction.

  Oh no.

  “Is there a problem, Officer?” Sean asked.

  “We have a movie to catch,” I added.

  Officer Marais rolled down his window. “I had a five-day training session in Houston this week. I don’t like leaving my family alone overnight, so I every day I drove to Houston and back.”

  “That’s a long trip,” Sean said. His voice was deceptively calm. We were off the inn’s grounds. If he snapped and Marais out of the cruiser, there wouldn’t be much I would be able to do to stop him.